These words seem out of style
and they can't fit my mouth
of over-portioned expectations,
like a reed the air won't pass through
and I am left wheezing, praying
that it is just me who cannot use
their shiny instrument.
Maybe it's for the better,
although I have not perfected
this kind of deadly machine,
will it hurt the first time
I actually stop and drop?
I guess I will understand soon
if this is simply some bargain
where others plot their escapes
and secretly sign off,
while I crouch in thought
of a prisoner's white washed
sanitary walls.
